


Missed Connections

by Corycides



Series: Tumbling On [3]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the lights had never gone out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missed Connections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [invaderhog](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=invaderhog).



> How about an AU Charlie/Jason where they meet in the regular world. A romance please!! (It can be a drabble ^.^)

At home the only thing anyone talked about at the dinner table was the price of carrots and the weather. To be fair, that wasn’t true, sometimes Maggie would talk about the skin tags she’d frozen in her dermatology clinic. It was different in Chicago, they talked about music, film and the news.

Charlie took a bite of her burger – meat-taste and juice and the crunch of the gherkin that was the closest thing to a veggie on her plate – and enjoyed the fact that no-one was going to lecture her about preservatives and chemicals and how you really couldn’t tell the difference with this new meat substitute (lies!). The guilt did add a funny aftertaste. Somewhere, she knew, her Dad was worrying about what she was eating. It wasn’t enough to put her off though.

‘Hey, Matheson,’ Gilly said, shoving his crest of hair out of his stick-brown eyes. ‘Is it true you grew up a farm? I mean, you are the blonde, all-American, corn-fed farmgirl?’

Actually, it had been an Organic Research Centre/commune and Dad had considered corn a loss-vegetable (corn didn’t provide enough health benefits to offset the labour of growing it). Explaining that, though, just made people think you were a weird hippy farmgirl.

Charlie finished chewing, swallowed and wiped her mouth on the napkin. ‘I’ve already heard all the jokes.’

He grinned, mouth looking too huge for his bony face. ‘Bet you haven’t! OK-‘

Fern jabbed an elbow into his ribs. ‘Leave her alone,’ she said. ‘Besides, it’s a good thing she’s an out of towner.’

‘Why?’ Gilly asked.

Shit.

Charlie looked down at her plate, the grease-soggy fries and mashed up beef suddenly unappetising, and pretended not to notice Tom making frantic ‘stop it’ gestures with his hands.’

‘Well, with that name?’ Fern said, dropping her voice so no-one could hear her. ‘Going into the police academy? You know, the other Matheson?’

Like the other white meat. Except, unfortunately, her disgraced uncle could only aspire to grubby grey on his best day. Charlie slurped down the last of her drink, stirring the ice cubes with her straw.

‘He’s my uncle,’ she said. ‘I need to go to the little girls room. Excuse me.’

She shoved past the table and walked – not ran – towards the back of the bar. Behind her she could hear them whispering. Tom would fill them in, well-meaning as ever, and they’d whip out their iPhones and by the time she came back everyone would know everything.

Uncle Miles. Mom. Danny.

Shit.

She stopped for a second and closed her eyes. Every time she thought she was OK with this, something happened and she realised she wasn’t. How much time could it take to come to terms with being a Matheson? She’d had years.

All of a sudden she didn’t feel like going back to eat or face anyone. Why should she? She had her phone and her keys. Tom could bring her jacket. She’d claim corn-fed farmgirl issues with all the booze.

Charlie waited until she was well away from the bar to text Tom. Otherwise he’d just follow her to try and talked her around. She didn’t want that. Her feet scuffed the pavement as she walked, hands in pockets, going over the next day’s lessons in her head. She was doing ok, but with her uncle? She needed to be the best.

Something slammed into her from behind and she went down, catching her weight on her hands. The pavement scraped the skin off.

‘Bitch,’ a slurred voice said. A boot hit her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her and filling her throat with the taste of burger bile. She gulped hard and tried to scramble to her feet. They kicked her again, and again. Charlie wrapped her arms around her head, catching the kicks on her forearms.

‘Hey!’ someone yelled. ‘Get away from her! Leave her alone!’

It was a scuffle of legs over her – ragged jeans and expensive looking suit trousers – and then the jeans slurred something vicious and staggered away.

‘Are you ok?’ her rescuer – euch, she was a cop, nearly – knelt down next to her. A tentative hand touched her shoulder. ‘Miss?’

‘Yeah,’ Charlie said, gingerly uncurling. She hurt, here and there, but it would be worse tomorrow. She glanced up at her new friend. Cropped dark hair, great lips and shoulders. Great, he was hot and she was rolling around in the dirt. Her tongue swiped over her lower lip. And bleeding. ‘I’m just…a bit winded.’

He tucked an arm around her shoulders, fingers in her armpit, and helped her back to her feet. Worry creased his face as he looked her over.

‘We should call the police.’

‘No!’ Charlie objected, grabbing his arm. ‘Please? I’m at the academy and…I should have been…’

What? More aware of her surroundings? Not so stunned by the violence that her only reaction was to go foetal? Not a Matheson? All of the above?

‘I’d rather not deal with it?’ she said.

He frowned harder. ‘Are you sure? He could have really hurt you.’

And he could hurt someone else. Charlie tried to feel civic-minded, but she just wanted to go home and sit down and not think for a week.

‘I’m sure.’ She stepped back and pushed her hair out of her face, scrubbing at her cheek in the hope of getting any stray bits of dirt. ‘Thank you. I should go.’

She stepped backward and tripped over a crack in the pavement, almost hitting the ground again. He caught her arms and hauled her back onto her feet, smiling like she was cute and not just a giant klutz.

‘Sorry-‘

‘Let me walk you back,’ he said. A shy smile quirked his mouth. ‘Make sure you get their safely.’

Charlie gave herself another tidy and eyed him suspiciously. ‘I don’t even know you.’

He stuck out his hand. ‘Jason.’

After a second she took it. ‘Charlie.’

She woke up the next morning to an interesting assortment of aches and pains and a warm, heavy body sprawled over her. It had seemed like a good idea the night before. Now she cringed as she tried to extricate her arms and legs from his without waking him up.

It didn’t work.

‘Mmmm,’ he groaned, stretching in a long sprawl of muscle and popping joints. ‘What time is it?’

‘Half six,’ Charlie said. She thought about playing modest and clutching the sheet to her chest, but it seemed silly. He had seen it all the night before. She scrambled out of bed. ‘I have an early class. I have to-‘

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the shower.

Jason sat up, hooking one arm around his knee, and looked at her with disappointed, brown eyes.

‘Are those my marching orders?’ he asked.

It would be rude to say yes. Charlie gave in to the awkwardness of standing there naked and grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it on.

‘I just, I have a lot on,’ she said. ‘And I really don’t usually do one night stands.’

He grinned cockily at her. ‘I’m flattered then,’ he said. ‘And it doesn’t have to be a one night stand. I’m free tonight.’

Charlie hesitated, tugging at the t-shirt to stretch it down over her thighs. He slid out of bed and came over to kiss her on the forehead.

‘Go have your shower,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave my card. You can call me, if you want. OK?’

She didn’t need any complications right now, but he was sweet and smelled good and had made last night not a horrible disaster that sent her home. So…maybe.   
Charlie stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a proper kiss.

He was gone by the time she got out of the shower, a plain card with his name and number on it left on her kitchen table. Drying her hair roughly on the towel, 

Charlie went over and picked it up.

Jason Neville. Now she knew his last name – that made it a bit less seedy.

Her phone rang. Dr Beat – Maggie’s ringtone. Charlie tucked Jason’s card into the pinboard and went hunting for her phone, finding it stuffed into her boot. Why, she didn’t know. It cut off just as she picked it up.

10 missed calls.

Charlie’s stomach knotted into a ball of cold, sweaty fear and she frantically called back.

‘Maggie?’ she blurted the minute her step-mother picked up. ‘What happened to Danny?’


End file.
